


The Perks Of Being A Demon

by Angel_made_of_scars



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon!Dean, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:29:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2720495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_made_of_scars/pseuds/Angel_made_of_scars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's fan cuts off, it's too hot, and he decided, what the hell, why not get a little hotter?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perks Of Being A Demon

**Author's Note:**

> Written before Demon Dean even aired so it's crappy and he's in the bunker, sorry.

Finally, his room. His own private space. His safe, warm room. Like, really warm. Intensely warm. Wow, it was warm. Had something happened to the fan again? Dean looked over and sure enough, the industrial sized fan in the corner of the room had stopped again.  
 _'Fuckin' motors and their fuckin' energy blinks when a demon walks in... A little respect!' ___Dean thought, of course causing nothing to change. He sighed and flopped down on the bed. It was just so damn hot.  
He rubbed his hands against his thighs, attempting to wipe the thin layer of moisture from them. He only succeeded in making his mind wander to other times he was touched there.  
"Well... Can't hurt..." Dean said quietly. Gently he reached down,rubbing his palm against the slowly rising bulge in his jeans. He was stroking up and down, feeling that amazing friction, not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to really feel his whole body start to tingle. Finally he had enough and slowly unzipped the pants, torturing himself and keeping his fist clenched by his side.  
He sat up, pulling off his shirt and the ripping off his pants. He teased himself a little more, palming through the last thin layer, moaning because he couldn't care less if Sam walked in. He decided enough was enough when the tip was peeking out of the waistband, and he pulled that off too.  
Gently he gripped himself, stroking slowly at first. He started to move faster, peeling back the foreskin, rubbing the slit where precome was quickly smeared, biting his lip to stifle the moan as he gently massaged his balls.  
He got rougher, biting his bottom and top lips hard, pinching a nipple and drawing a short fingernail across it just to twist it second later. He started to stroke more desperately now, feeling the familiar burn in his stomach, the tingling warmth in his balls. He teased at his hole, holding his thumb over his dick for good measure, before sticking a finger straight in.  
At first it felt horrible, unnatural and too big, but he got used to it quickly, and as he always did, started to shove into himself hitting his prostate over and over, before letting go and spilling into his fist and across his stomach. Dean moaned and arched up as he milked himself completely, until the stimulation was too much. Carefully he pulled his fingers out, teasing his rim just one more time before wiping his fingers on a few tissues from his nightstand.  
He cleaned himself up and debated getting under the covers when he realized how tired he was. Sure, demons didn't _need ___sleep, didn't dream, but it's not like demons _couldn't ___sleep, and, no nightmares, so it was a win-win. Dreamless, peaceful sleep, with the ability to wake up instantly and not need that extra cup of coffee. Dean opened his eyes when he felt a breeze blow over his face. The fan, he hadn't even been paying attention. It had come back on.  
"Always do come around, don't yah?" Dean chuckled.  
"So what if there's a little power surge, it's worth it for my pleasure right? Perks of being a demon." Dean said to himself, drifting into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
